Chapter 891 - New Life Uniforms

Contemplating all this, Minister Hong couldn't help feeling a twinge of regret. The Lieutenant Colonel shoulder straps had only just been pinned on—officers wearing Lieutenant Colonel rank were few among the elder officer corps, most still being Majors. Besides himself, only Dongmen Chuiyu, Permanent Secretary of the General Staff, and Wei Aiwen, Director of the General Staff Political Department, shared that distinction. And this Joint Logistics Department, in terms of status, was one of the Four General Headquarters—promotion to Major General in the first batch was virtually assured.

Had he left the army and transferred to ministry organs instead, his specialty would have landed him in the Planning Commission, facing piles of "operation charts" and reports every day, guiding a bunch of naturalized citizens in making tables. Never mind the exhausting workload—his presence among the elders would have been far too inconspicuous.

He mulled over how to prod Thorpe into quickly establishing the Hong Kong Forward Command. He knew Thorpe's type: young, full of theories, author of a book, brimming with ideas, constantly citing the US military—a typical scholar. But theories alone were useless. Hong Huangnan thought somewhat resentfully that at least he had brought a box of various pamphlets and notes from the old man who had worked logistics in his youth, all core content from actual PLA logistics operations. Only by studying those notes had he realized just how different theory and reality were.

Hong Huangnan was still secretly fretting when the sound of a steam whistle pierced the harbor—not a steamship whistle, but the Central Pier signal announcing an incoming vessel.

Recently, ships arrived at Hong Kong Island almost daily. The frequent traffic had once aroused the concern of Guangdong officials; the Nantou Water Fortress had even dispatched a Squad Leader with wine, pigs, and sheep just days ago to visit Le Lin and reaffirm their "traditional friendship." Le Lin had dutifully assured them that the increased shipping had nothing to do with them.

Ships brought construction materials, supplies, and personnel in steady streams. The overture to Operation Engine had already begun.

Hong Huangnan wondered what this ship carried—though he held little hope it was the personnel he needed for the Forward Command. Tomorrow, he planned to return personally to Lingao and settle the matter directly with the Military Affairs Directorate.

He walked slowly to the office adjacent to his bedroom, gathered his thoughts, and began drafting the Operation Engine logistics memorandum.

Although considerable logistics construction had begun on Hong Kong Island, most facilities remained rudimentary: dedicated wharves, warehouses. These were necessary but insufficient. He also needed logistics factories. A military food factory was temporarily out of the question—the Planning Commission couldn't provide him such massive infrastructure investment at present. But a water purification plant was mandatory: supplying safe, clean drinking water to ships plying these waters. Of course, when demand was low, surplus capacity could produce kvass, soda, and similar soft drinks. Finally, a clothing factory. Long-term reliance on Lingao for military garments meant significant logistical inefficiency—long-distance transfers requiring massive storage space. A clothing factory on Hong Kong Island could leverage Guangzhou's port advantages for cloth procurement and tap the female labor resources of the Pearl River Delta.

If the water supply could be resolved, a military food factory should also be built here; fresh fruits and vegetables remained essential for seagoing ships...

As he organized his thoughts, a knock sounded at the door, followed by a crisp "Report!"

"Come in," he shouted without looking up.

His Life Secretary appeared at the door—in uniform, sporting the rank of Fubo Army Corporal.

To care for the daily needs of elders serving in the military, Xi Yazhou had proposed—and the Military Affairs Directorate and General Office had jointly issued—a document stipulating that all Life Secretaries of elder military officers would be incorporated into active service with Logistics Corporal rank, promoted according to the Fubo Army rank system up to a maximum of Captain. Officers' Life Secretaries didn't occupy formal army establishment and weren't granted actual posts. Once the subordination relationship between elder officer and Life Secretary was dissolved, she couldn't continue serving and had to retire to local placement—to avoid undermining morale. During service, the Life Secretary's pay, food allowance, clothing stipend, and serviceman insurance matched equivalent ranks, but this expenditure wasn't listed in the military budget; instead, it was deducted from the elder's personal account. After the elder retired from active service, the Life Secretary must also retire.

"Minister, Second Lieutenant Xie Peng of the Joint Logistics Headquarters has arrived," the secretary reported, standing at attention.

This ship had brought not construction materials but the staff personnel and equipment Hong Huangnan had been longing for day and night—the team to form the Forward Command. Several large crates were packed with specialized logistics charts and boards.

Besides the naturalized staff team, a batch of temporarily seconded elders from the Planning Commission and Finance had come as well, now under his command. Xie Peng delivered the written order from the Military Affairs Directorate appointing Hong Huangnan to form and command the Operation Engine Logistics Forward Command.

The seconded elders came mostly from coordination, accounting, and logistics backgrounds—professionally appropriate matches. This brought Hong Huangnan considerable relief. Naturalized citizens had limited fundamental capabilities; they could execute orders by following examples, but matters requiring strong professional skills could only be handled by elders themselves.

The Forward Command occupied several large rooms in the base fortress. With its formal establishment, the basic framework fell into place. The Planning Commission had already secured the grain supply; ships were largely accounted for. He simply had to compile specific distribution plans and ship operation charts—the latter primarily the Navy's responsibility, requiring less of his attention.

After food and transport came clothing. From the first vagrant they took in, the established practice had been to recycle refugee garments after disinfection—for paper pulp—and issue new clothing instead. This was partly for hygiene; on the other hand, what the vagrants wore could hardly be called clothes. With few exceptions, most arrived in little more than rags. Without basic clothing, refugee camps would become nudist camps.

Initially, the Garment Factory seriously imitated Type 87 cotton training uniforms—commonly known as "migrant worker uniforms"—for quarantine camp inmates. As refugee numbers increased, production increasingly failed to keep pace with supply requirements. After Mo Xiaoan took office as People's Commissar of Light Industry, he improved the quarantine camp uniform to boost output, codenamed the "New Life Uniform."

Though Mo Xiaoan was neither a tailor nor a fashion designer, he understood the basic principles of refugee clothing supply: simplification and applicability. Lingao's climate rarely froze anyone to death, so materials didn't need to be thick. Refugees in quarantine generally didn't engage in heavy physical labor, so fabric didn't need to be tough or wear-resistant. Dyeing was entirely unnecessary.

Lingao's textiles, beyond the cotton, kudzu, and linen cloth woven by the Li people themselves, came mainly from imports off-island, including Songjiang cloth and Indian cotton. Indian cloth was the bulk. Mo Xiaoan selected the thinnest and cheapest cotton yarn available.

The style of the New Life Uniforms was radically stripped down. Buttons and pockets were all eliminated. Eventually, even the belt fastener was cancelled. The final design became a pullover "pocket shirt" with a thin strap at the neckline to adjust collar size. New Life Uniforms made no distinction between genders or seasons. The upper garment was uniformly a long-sleeved pullover; the lower garment was trousers. Sizes came in Large, Medium, Small, and Children. Generally, Lingao-manufactured clothing didn't include hats except for military and police uniforms, but New Life Uniforms all came with a straw sun hat—refugees had their heads shaved bald during purification, so their smooth scalps required protection.

The New Life Uniform series also included standard undergarments—commonly known as "Type 30 Boxers" because universal issue began in 1630. Like the outer garments, these were distinguished only by size, not gender. Type 30 Boxers were issued not only to refugees in purification but also to the army and naturalized citizens. Even elders in the military system wore them.

Issuing undergarments was specifically requested by Ryan of the health department responsible for epidemic prevention: not wearing underwear easily caused skin diseases and parasitic spread. Additionally, supplying underwear reduced the quantity of outer clothing needed—quarantine camp regulations issued two sets of underwear and one set of outer clothing per person.

Now, transporting 200,000 people requiring two complete sets of basic clothing each, calculated at three meters of cloth per set, demanded 1.2 million meters—equivalent to approximately 100,000 bolts of Songjiang cloth.

Increasing import quotas by 100,000 bolts over more than a year wasn't difficult for the Senate, whether sourcing from India or the mainland. Now that they held strongholds in Zhejiang and Shanghai, right next to Songjiang's production areas, supply was abundant and prices low. Zhao Yingong could acquire sufficient cloth quite cheaply.

But the clothing supplied this time would be worn in places much further north. Kaohsiung posed no problem—average temperature 25°C, so Lingao-standard clothing would suffice. But refugees collected in Shandong would be sent to Jeju Island for winter. Minimum winter temperatures there could drop to 1–2°C. Issuing only two sets of unlined clothes would obviously freeze people to death. Even sheltering in camps, refugees couldn't survive without bedding and wearing only single layers—unless they were roasted constantly by fires like meat on a barbecue. Furthermore, once they reached Shandong and Jeju Island, not only refugees but also troops and administrators executing Operation Engine would require cold-weather gear.

Currently, Lingao's army and administrative cadres came almost entirely from Guangdong, Guangxi, Fujian, and Jiangxi. Even during the Little Ice Age, temperatures in those provinces ran far warmer than Shandong or Jeju Island. Sending these personnel north would inevitably cause widespread frostbite. Hong Huangnan came from a PLA logistics family and knew such situations intimately; new recruits from the south assigned to the north almost invariably suffered frostbite, with many cases festering badly. That was in an environment with adequate clothing support.

The current Fubo Army winter gear consisted merely of lined jackets made from thicker cotton cloth. Never mind cotton-padded jackets or greatcoats—they didn't even have a single wool sweater.